Amor Impossibile
by Forever.Half.Full
Summary: There is no worse dilemma you could possibly be in than Cammie's. You love someone, but you can't. Impossible love.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! I know I said I won't be able to do anything this whole week, and I won't, except for this, 'cause I have like 10 minutes to use my computer and it's pre- written. It's kinda a teaser. You like, I continue. You hate, I keep it a one- shot. Or delete it. Whatever. I want ten positive reviews (at least) to continue.

I groaned. Another day of being forced to get up, even though sleep was obviously the better option. Seriously, it's warm, quiet, soft, and comfortable. As opposed to being awake. Obviously, at the Gallagher Academy. I rolled out of bed and onto the floor with a thump.

I took a shower, brushed my teeth, combed, dried, straightened, brushed, fixed, and re- brushed my hair into a messy bun with a few of the shorter layered strands dangling to about my chin. On came the lip gloss, concealer, blush, bronzer, mascara, and eyeliner. Grabbing my uniform out of the closet, I put on the navy and baby blue plaid skirt, white blouse, white knee socks, navy flats, and a baby blue sweater vest and a ribbon of the same shade.

Now it was off to the Grand Hall. Pretend to eat horrid food that everyone else thought was delicious and wretch it in secret later. Easier said than done at a spy school.

First block was P&E. Punch and be punched even though you are in enough pain inside. If only they loved you enough to notice.

Haha reaaaallllyyyy short, eh? Only one page handwritten and half in open office. They'll get wayyyy longer, I promise. Review, and check out my other stories, even though I've been super super swamped and haven't updated in a while. I'll get better, I promise! Ahh, so many promises, so little time... byahhhh!


	2. Chapter 2

Now, don't get me wrong. My mum loves me. My roommates love me. Zach loves me. _Maybe a little too much, _I thought.

But what is love? Love is knowing someone backwards and forwards well enough so that their slightest hurt, aching, or discomfort is like a flashing, blinking alarm. Being willing to die for them. Hurting horribly when you're separated for a mere hour.

But my whole word had come crashing down on me, reducing me to shreds of the person I used to be. Stressed out shreds with far too much depending on them. But did they notice? No. maybe I was a better actress than I thought. A better spy. Or maybe my tremendous love for each and every one of them isn't returned as much as I thought. No. They love me. They have to, or else they wouldn't put up with me. They do, right?

I wouldn't even have this dilemma, there would be no problem, if Zach didn't love me. But then, who am I to judge the sureness of their love? I may love them, but not enough to tell them about all of this. And I doubt their "unconditional" love. How unconditional would it be if they found out I was pregnant?

In three months, I've already grown an unconditional love for this baby inside of me. A baby boy. When he kicked or made me puke, I loved him anyways. He absolutely couldn't stand chocolate, but I loved him anyways.

The ultimate sacrifice, right? What if he died? Or never made it to life? What if I had a miscarriage? I have no idea what I would do. But it was all too likely- I ate about a fourth of what I used to eat four months ago because nothing appealed to me. Not to mention, I threw up practically everything I ate. Training as I did, there was no way he was safe. Our workouts were inhumane, and the fights... It would be unhealthy for a regular Gallagher girl to eat like this, let alone a pregnant one. I didn't have a bump, in fact, I had lost about ten pounds. I made a deal with myself: If Zachary Matthew made it to four months, I would tell. That gave me three weeks to get my courage up.

Caught in my daydream, I didn't realize I was called to my mother's office until Bex elbowed me and hissed. I got a few weird looks as I exited the classroom. About time they think something's up, even if it was for the wrong reasons.

I was on pins and needles. What if she found out somehow? I had just given myself three weeks and now...

"Cameron, it has come to my attention that your grades-"

Okay, good. I'm safe. Biggg sigh. Yooof. But of course, that fear got me thinking...

"Cameron! This is no light matter! You know Gallagher does not accept anything below a B, and you have straight C's right now!" she scolded me.

"Well, at least I'm consistent," I attempted to make light of the situation.

"I don't want to kick you out, Cammie. You're brilliant and have no where else to go, because public school would honestly be a waste of your time. So if you promise to try really hard, I'm sure we could work something out and no one else would ever be the wiser," she offered.

"No! I don't want special treatment! If I'm not supposed to be here, then dammit, I won't be here unfairly!" I yelled, outraged. How dare she offer that to me? **(Sorry AB the language, but I kinda needed it to make a point...)**

I quickly stripped down to my black booty shorts and the black and white zebra print bra I had been wearing under my uniform, which I laid on her sofa. "Keep it. I won't be needing it anymore. In five years to this very day, I'll be back in this office. If you miss me, sucks for you. But don't come looking for me." She stared at me open- mouthed. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," I snarled at her.

She reached out to touch me, but I turned away and stormed out of her office, hearing a flash behind me. The sick twisted woman! I didn't mean for her to actually take one! I wasn't wearing hardly anything, in case you didn't remember.

I ran up to our room and took my wallet with my credit cards and the entire contents of both Macey's closet and her makeup collection and put it all in a giant Vera Bradley duffel bag. I threw the bag in the trunk of Mr. Solomon's little red sports car and drove off.

In town, I got ten thousand dollars out of each of my mum's fourteen bank accounts, and took all the cash out of each of my three, which left me with seven hundred thousand. Wow. I guess I was pretty rich. But now I need myself a job, because that seven hundred thousand, as much as it was, wouldn't last me forever.

After I got my hair dyed sandy blonde with caramel lowlights, grabbed some Chick fil A for dinner and dark green contacts with blue flecks, I finished my makeover. Wearing clothes that fit my skinny body instead of trying to make me fatter and brought out my curves, with a good makeover, I looked totally different. I out on black eyeliner, because I never wore it, and with the contacts, they popped out more against my face and made the rest off my face seem completely changed.

With my makeover complete, I settled down in a hotel room in Los Angeles for the night. I reflected on my need for a job and remembered a talent search flyer I saw on the ground. They needed someone with a good voice. No one at Gallagher knew I could sing, not even my mother. There was an open audition date tomorrow. Perfect.


End file.
